Special Dance
by Tiquismiquis
Summary: Hector thinks Eliwood's constant daydreaming about Ninian might be dangerous for the army, so he jokingly tells him to ask her for a "special dance" and get it over with. A Freudian Slip ensues. EliwoodxNinian, HectorxCrack.


_Author's Note: Please to be not letting this oneshot push your opinion of me in any negative direction. Sometimes I just can't help myself? (Also it's #manna'sfault.)  
_

_Inspired of course by dat EliwoodxNinian C support. "Sorry, didn't mean to sound too forward!" YEAH RIGHT, ELIWOOD._

* * *

Their whole lives, Hector mused one night, Eliwood had been the practical one, and he'd been the dreamer. Eliwood had been focused, Hector distracted. Eliwood understood his priorities, Hector had a harder time of it.

It was odd to see the tables turned.

"Hector," his old friend breathed for about the hundredth time, losing any of the depth to his voice that manhood had brought, "have you ever seen anyone so beautiful?"

He felt an eyebrow lift as he studied Ninian, dancing for the army before the fire. The night was dark and stifling and the last battle had been difficult. They'd been lucky that they weren't spending the evening burying their friends. Because of this, while most of the soldiers were sitting around the fire, Eliwood and Hector stood apart, away from the light, just to catch a glimpse of the merriment and relief before they went off to formulate greater plans.

If they could.

But Eliwood had been distracted the past few weeks, smitten with their dancer, which Hector found odd. Not only was it so unlike Eliwood to forget his responsibilities, but Ninian had also always struck Hector as rather waifish, really: too-pale skin, too-large eyes, and no ability to fight for herself whatsoever.

"I've seen better," he said, to make Eliwood angry (an old game he never quite won at).

"Liar."

His eyes had glazed over. Hector sighed and pulled his shoulder, turning him around and breaking his gaze.

"You're being ridiculous."

"Perhaps I am. We have a war to concentrate on. I can't afford to…" Eliwood trailed off anyway, turning back to look at Ninian again. Hector shook his shoulder to snap him out of it. This was the last thing the army needed!

"You've already kissed her, haven't you!"

"What? Why would that matter?"

"Because as soon as you get involved with her, Lyn and Mark and I will never see you again! We still need you to keep a clear head, Eliwood!"

"Don't be ridiculous. A single kiss won't incapacitate me, and besides, it hasn't even happened yet."

"_Yet?_"

"I know I must, eventually," Eliwood said after a pause, sounding uncomfortable.

"Oh no, you mustn't," he argued. "You just said it; we can't afford distractions. War is war is war. You'll have time for kissing later."

"I don't think there's any way to avoid it," he protested. "I feel for her so greatly that I'm not entirely in control of myself. After that last battle, she'd almost been—I cut down the man before he could get to her, but—if she had—" Eliwood didn't seem to be able to finish the sentence. "Afterward, I just held her, on the ground, like I could surround her. I completely forgot myself. My fight. My allies."

"Don't let it happen again," said Hector, feeling the hair raise on the back of his neck. Something was just a little off about the whole situation. Like a tragedy waiting to happen. What if the next time, Eliwood wasn't quick enough?

"I don't _mean_ for this to happen, Hector. I just can't get her out of my head!"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. The conversation had become entirely too dark for his tastes. And maybe—just maybe—the problem wasn't Eliwood being his usual over-romantic self. Maybe the problem was that he hadn't let Ninian know, yet, and the thought was consuming him.

"You know what you need to do?" he said finally. "Just ask her for a _special_ dance and get it over with."

"What?" Eliwood sounded stupendously affronted. "How could you even suggest—"

"You're always staring at her anyway. Might as well let her know that you mean to look some more."

"It sounds so crass, like that." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I would like to spend more time with her, yes, and to learn more about her dancing, yes. But not like _that_. Can you imagine how awkward it would be? To just sit and watch such a thing—not that she knows how, and not that she would!"

"You don't know that," said Hector. "And you're not strictly watching, once she gets into your lap."

"You're awful." Eliwood was blushing. Hector grinned and elbowed him.

"You have to let her know you care somehow, right? Maybe that'll help put your mind at ease."

"Perhaps," he agreed after a deep breath, elbowing back. "But I won't be taking _your_ suggestion."

And Hector believed him.

Things were smooth for the next few days. Eliwood still had his head in the clouds, but he and Lyn were around to keep him on track. Hector was determined that no distraction would impede their progress. And Ninian, for her part, seemed to keep her distance. If Eliwood wanted to get to know her better, he'd have to approach her and say so, and he certainly wasn't forward enough for that.

At least, that's what Hector thought until the night Eliwood pushed his way into the tent, blushing furiously.

"You _didn't_," said Hector in awe.

"I d-didn't mean to! It's your fault! I was thinking so hard about not saying it that it spilled out anyway!"

"You asked her for a _special dance_." He leaned back in his chair, covering his grin with a hand. "Silver-tongued Eliwood, master of our speech classes, asked a girl to get over him and—"

"She said _yes!_"

"What?" Hector almost lost his balance and caught himself on the edge of the table just in time, slamming the chair back to its proper position. "What do you _mean_?"

"Exactly what I said!"

"So when will she—?"

"She already did!"

"_What?"_

"Well, you don't have to sound so surprised about it!"

"Elimine." He buried his face in his hands.

"She led me off right away," he said, his voice breathless. "Hector, there's nobody like her."

"So how awkward was it?"

"It wasn't," answered Eliwood, and Hector looked up slightly to find that his blush was fading. "It just seemed…right. We were ready for something like this. Smiling like fools the entire time."

"You're smiling like a fool _now_," Hector pointed out. "So did you finally—?"

"Yes, of _course_ I finally kissed her! What _didn't_ I do, is a better question."

He checked an exasperated groan and looked his friend over. Yep: eyes still glassy, hands still idle, mind still completely distracted.

"Well, there goes the war." Hector flung the map off the table.

* * *

_Author's Note: I know Eliwood's supposed to be the responsible one, but I think when it comes to love he turns into a big pile of goop. You can't read that man's supports and say he's not a hopeless romantic. Hector would probably have the more level head, in this case._


End file.
